Bob Barnard, one of Australia’s most appreciated Jazz exponents and, for many, the world’s leading cornetist, was leader of the Jazz Party, responsible for selection and programming of musicians. Each year, Bob Barnard’s Jazz Party was attended by on or more overseas musicians with little or no previous exposure in Australia. Over the years these included Ralph Sutton, Marty Grosz, Jon-Erik Kellso, Bernd Lhotsky, John Sheridan, Chris Hopkins, Antti Sarpila, Bob Havens, Evan Christopher, Dan Barrett, Jim Galloway, and Nicki Parrott. In this, the tenth and final Jazz Party, Rebecca Kilgore, Eddie Erickson and Dan Barrett were the featured guests.
Rebecca (or Becky) Kilgore continues to occupy a remarkable position in the hearts of music lovers. Her singing is pure without being formal, intense without being melodramatic, casual without being artless. She only sings those songs that mean something to her – a lesson other singers haven’t learned – and, as a result, their emotional impact is never smudged or buried under ornaments and tricks. Her oval effect is remarkably sunny, but she finds the depths of feeling in songs that open into possibilities. And you know she’s singing, not anyone else, before the end of the second bar. On “The Lady’s In Love,” she goes from a sublimely tender verse to a swinging version of the melody, and second chorus with climbing improvisations.
Eddie Erickson loves to clown (and his vaudevillian pedigree is fully burnished in these performances) but I think him a peerless rhythm singer and balladeer, someone who shows his heart to the audience when given the chance. He is one of the few banjo players who don’t have to register with the police when they travel to new towns, and he’s never gotten enough credit as a limber, down-home guitar player with a built-in thythmic momentum and steadiness. And he is clearly possessed of his own sense of what’s appropriate: no one else would have even imagined “Play, Fiddle, Play” as a virtuosic banjo feature. And his avian narrative – the story of a naughty canary with a secret life – is a fully realized comic playlet.
Dan Barrett is so deeply multi-talented that his mere existence is an affront to those of us who can’t do even one of the things he does so well. Would you like the finest trombonist of his generation, someone who could hold his own in the Basie band at the Famous Door? Or perhaps a supple cornetist with his own take on the great traditions of the Thirties and Forties? A sly, winning singer? A first-rate arranger and composer with perfect recall for that 1945 Don Byas riff that makes us cheer? A swinging, supportive pianist (hear him on “Who Walks In” and “Can I Come In”)? That’s our Barrett. The great players of the past live through him without his losing any of his essential originality. I especially admire his ballad work on “If I Had You” and “Stardust”; he’s not in a hurry to get anywhere, but he gets there memorably. (Hear his shouting entrance on “Then I’ll Be Happy”!)
Mark (“the Eel”) Elton knows the right notes, has a wonderfully supple rhythmic engine and fine harmonic sensibilities. His solo on “Then I’ll Be Happy” is eloquently spare; his introduction to “Sway” would have anyone want to dance!
Many small groups go neatly from the head to the blowing choruses to the head or a jammed ensemble, making their performances seem somewhat all the same thing. But this foursome’s joyous teamwork is something to marvel at. And, as is the case with the greatest recordings, we hear something new each time we return. There’s Becky’s sweet, knowing earnestness; Eddie’s harmonizing and just-right guitar chords, Dan’s naughty obbligato and solos Mark’s beautiful sound and perfect note choices. “Sway” fully embodies them as a group – jazz synergy at its finest! Without ever rising above a conversational volume (they don’t shout and carry on), they begin at the rhythmic level other groups dream of concluding with. Their playfulness is lively, spirited throughout. Hear the fine head of steam they get up on “They Lady’s In Love.” In the ideal world, these musicians would have their own television show . . . but until that day, we have this CD to keep us warm, recorded at four separate sessions at Bob Barnard’s final jazz party – amidst what is obviously an admiring audience of both patrons and musicians.
Michael Steinman writes about jazz for a half-dozen jazz magazines and record companies, but has the most fun celebrating the music and the musicians on his lively blog, “Jazz Lives.” Check it out at www.jazzlives.wordpress.com.
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